Looking back over 1998, I have given a lot of films high ratings. In fact, some would say too high. Just over the summer season, I have given The X-Files, The Truman Show, Mulan, The Horse Whisperer, and some others four stars. And I am certain that it won't end there. Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan is guaranteed to get four stars from me. My ratio of negative reviews to positive reviews is staggering... it's about a 10:1 ratio. 10 positive reviews for every negative review. Now, I am exaggerating with this number, but it certainly seems close. Judging from the recent onslaught of e-mail concerning my reviews, people like it. Why? I guess I consider myself a critic for the people.
Now, I don't know what to make of this statement. A critic for the people... is this good or bad? A critic looks at the good and bad aspects of a movie and then judges them accordingly. However, I seem to have this certain love for movies in which everyone I see usually provides a level of entertainment. I get so engrossed in some movies that all the flaws disappear and I give the film four stars (see The X-Files for a good example). And looking at the films I have reviewed, I can safely assume that I am definitely one of the more liberal critics out there. I thought Godzilla was entertaining and gave it a marginally positive review. I thought Armageddon was a kick-ass action film. And even Small Soldiers, which brought back that Toy Story charm. But with all the movies I give positive reviews to, there are a lot of critics that don't like them. Ironically, I usually read some critics' reviews before I watch a movie and then review it myself. What's so ironic is concerning the recent There's Something About Mary, which I saw before any other critic. I reviewed it, and waited to see what other critics thought. As you can tell, I did not think the movie was good. It was funny, but only because I had to laugh. There was really no other choice. Wincing was guaranteed, but some moments just pushed the taste envelope to the point of extreme distaste and then pushed past it. As the reviews flooded in, I was practically stunned. Siskel and Ebert both loved it. Critics praised it's gaudy sense of humor. The film, which is aimed at my age group, has struck a certain note with critics in their 30s or 40s. But the critics my age think the film is wrong and just gross. What does this say about the movie? Obviously that old people will like it more than young people.
But that's not even true. Many of my friends think it's hilarious. Granted, I was raised in a strict Mormon home, but my movie tastes have since expanded after I began writing reviews. Unfortunately, I still like even bad movies (or what other critics would call bad movies). Take, Species II, for instance. Critically lambasted across the board, I am one of the only critics who gave the film a positive review. Why? Because it entertained me. It lived up to my expectations, and then surpassed them. Is this a good reason to give the film a positive review? I think so. Other critics wouldn't.
The recent onslaught of e-mail that I previously mentioned is a rather distressing fact. I get some occassional e-mail that calls me a pathetic dork who wouldn't know a good film if it bit me in the behind (and for that person, my favorite film is Schindler's List... the end). I didn't like Forrest Gump, and I have since taken a lot of heat against that opinion. Why didn't I like it? Because after all the hype and all the advertising, I didn't see much in it. It was just a director trying to win Oscars. There was no other purpose behind the movie. Showing off special effects is one thing, but to win Best Picture for doing it? Well, there's another one of my pet peeves. I take a lot of pride in the Academy Awards. I think they are a highly esteemed award. Unfortunately, the Academy has become less concerned with quality than with praising it's own. Consider last year's show, which contained some of the most outrageous wins in history. Both of them came in the Best Actor and Actress categories. At first, I liked As Good As It Gets. But soon, it started winning awards, and I began to hate it immensely. Then, when I thought it was safe to assume that Helen Hunt wouldn't win the Oscar, she does. You can only imagine my anger. Not only was she the worst actress of the nominees, I thought she merely took her Mad About You persona, and interpreted it into the film. There was no real acting going on there. Jack Nicholson, who has been screwed in the past by the Academy, was awarded one for giving one of lesser performances. I can understand that the Academy gave him the award if they felt he deserved it for his Chinatown performance. But that is over with, and the voters should look at the quality of work they are voting for. His portrayal of Melvin Udall was adequate but nothing spectacular. Every other nominee for Best Actor deserved it more. And yet, he won. It's rather infuriating. So, my opinion of that film has dropped to the point of hating, which perhaps explains my hatred of the film Forrest Gump.
What does being too nice have to do with this? Well, it appears that I am not the only "too-nice" person out there. Every Academy voter seems to be "too-nice!" Voting for Nicholson and Hunt only proves the xenophobic attitude that the Academy has. Four out of the five actresses were British, and which one wins? The American. And while I am there, Helena Bonham Carter deserved to win (or even Kate Winslet, who has received two nominations already in her career). So, too nice. Is that a good thing? I guess it would depend. When reviewing a movie for the public, I like to see it as the public sees it. Unfortunately, and I don't want to sound condescending or rude, the average audience don't like good films. They prefer action and explosions (although 1998's box office receipts prove otherwise), while dramas are left in the back. The upcoming Saving Private Ryan is sure to be the best film of the year, but I bet that the film doesn't perform well at the box office. If it does, then movie goers have a much more wide taste than critics. I, for one, have an extremely wide taste for films. I love Titanic, yes, but I also love The X-Files. Intelligent films are getting extremely rare these days, and I have to adjust my tastes to fit what is being served. Certainly, I won't agree all the time (ahem... Deep Impact, anyone?), but I like to think that I can see a good film when I watch it. If not, I hope you, the reader, will inform me.
The 1998 Summer SeasonNow, I have to mention this year's season of big-budget extravaganzas because there just aren't any. We have had Godzilla and Armageddon, but the grosses of those films show that movie goers aren't going to fall for it (perhaps a Titanic side-effect). Armageddon will make it's money back, and become the highest grossing film of the year, but the comparisons of this year to last are obvious. Last year was Men in Black, and that film dominated. Then Titanic, which blew everything away. This year, people are spreading their money out, giving every film a nice gross. While none have blown anyone away, we have certainly seen an improvement of last year.
The quality this summer is impeccable to say the least. Everything from The X-Files to The Truman Show has been getting great reviews. I would say that, quality-wise, this is the best summer to date. I haven't seen this much variety of good movies to pick from in a long time. And I bet that next year will be even better. Perhaps Hollywood will soon come around and leave the post-modernistic age it has been living in for the past couple of decades. One day, we will see films that stimulate the mind and enthrall the eyes. One day, we will see movies that contain explosions that serve the plot, rather than become it. One day, we will see a world of movies that will be done better than ever. Who knows? Maybe that's the next millenium. Of course, one day, the movies will die out, because ideas can last only so long. In fact, the regeneration of ideas has become a hobby of many Hollywood producers these days. Originality is not a strong point in today's theaters. Hopefully, a new set of standards will arise that allows people to create films that make audiences come to the theaters again and again.
And this leads in to my discussion of the recent New York Times survey. The paper reported that nowadays, only about 10% of the nation's population attends movies frequently. Others, only sporadically. Back when Gone with the Wind was released, the percentage was around 89%. The drop is incredible. Perhaps it is because films have gotten so arduous and so regular that we don't think it's very special to attend on anymore. Everytime I go to the theater, I think it's a treat. Anytime I watch a movie, it's a new experience. Nowadays, there are too many distractions: computers, Internet, television, cable, etc. Live theater is dying out, and multimedia is peaking. Sooner or later, we won't even have to make the trip to the theaters to watch a movie. I fear this time, if it does come. Attending films with a bunch of strangers seems like an odd pasttime, but it is one of my most cherished. Without the other people around, I don't know how to enjoy it. I don't get the same thrill that I do when an audience laughs at a comedy or shrieks at a horror film. Sharing emotions is one of the nation's purist forms of entertainment, but most people don't know what it is. It's film. And if we don't start supporting them and seeing them more regularly, they won't be around anymore. Is this why I am too nice? Perhaps... or maybe I haven't lost that love of merely attending a film.